Page 109 of Fostering Chemistry
Aaron’s arm tensed under my head. “So you only did that so I wouldn’t feel bad? You weren’t turned on by being pressed up against me?”
“Of course I was. My nipple was hard, remember?”
“Ah, good point. And yes, I remember that quite vividly. After that, Cousin Dan ceased to exist for me. It was all you.”
“Same here.”
I shifted closer again, wanting to feel his body—but not too close. I didn’t see how we could talk if our faces were right next to each other. But then again… there were other things I wanted to do with him besides talk.
“Those first two encounters were pretty awkward,” he admitted.
“They were. But this one doesn’t have to be.”
He stilled. “I just… I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. Just because you agreed to stay in my bed doesn’t mean?—”
I reached out and put my index finger over his lips, stopping his words. “It means I want to be here with you. And that I want to spend the whole night with you. I trust you. I know you would never make me do anything I didn’t want to.”
“I’m glad.” He reached out, his hand trailing along my upper arm.
“I’m here because I want to be,” I said again. “So you don’t have to… I mean…”
His fingers trailed down the rest of my arm, and he caught my hand, squeezing it.
“You can tell me anything, Mia.” His voice was low and soft.
“You don’t have to hold back,” I said in a rush. My face heated, and I hoped he couldn’t see that in the low light. “I mean, I like that you’re kind and polite and a good friend, but you don’talwayshave to be a gentleman.”
“In bed, you mean,” he supplied, not sounding offended.
“Yes. Thank you for stopping my babbling.”
He sighed. “I want to touch you. And kiss you. I want to make you feel good. But you just have to promise me—if something’s not right, if you want to stop, you’ll tell me instantly.”
“I promise. But maybe you could agree that if I don’t tell you that—if I’m touching you and kissing you back, please don’t stop on my account. Because I don’t want you to. Unless you want to, I mean.”
Aaron sighed, laughing slightly. “We’re worse at talking about consent than Diego was at the welcome meeting.”
“Yeah, probably. But I think we’re on the same page. And… we’re in the same bed.” That fact made me more excited than nervous now.
“I’m glad we are.” He reached up and gently tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “May I kiss you now?”
His question stole my breath. I wanted that so much. “Yes.”
His hand cradled the side of my face, and then his lips met mine—soft at first, like a whisper. I leaned into him, my fingers curling lightly at his waist. The kiss was soft at first. Unhurried. Then it deepened, still gentle but more sure now. His slid around me, pulling me closer until there was almost no space between us.
His hand moved to my hip, resting there. He didn’t rush anything, he just held me. My satin top shifted as I moved, the cool fabric brushing against his bare skin.
Hoping it was all right with him, I placed my hand against the wall of his chest. His heart beat steadily, if perhaps a bit fast, under my palm.
When his hand slipped to my waist and paused there, his eyes searched mine—checking. Waiting.
I didn’t look away.
“Is this okay?” he whispered, his fingers tracing the hem of my cami where it met my skin.
“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely audible even in the quiet of the room.
His warm palm slid beneath the little satin top, coming to rest on my bare stomach. The contact sent a shiver through me, and I arched slightly into his touch. His fingers splayed across my skin, thumb tracing small circles just below my ribs.
